


as the world fades away, you wonder where you were

by notthebigspoon



Series: down here in the atmosphere [7]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don't think we should do this.”</p><p>	“I don't think I care.”</p><p>Title taken from The Ballad of Resurrection Joe and Rosa Whore by Rob Zombie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as the world fades away, you wonder where you were

“I don't think we should do this.”

“I don't think I care.”

To be honest, Hunter actually has no idea where he is. All he knows is that they'd cleaned up and started to leave, but then Angel had grabbed a handful of his shirt and dragged him somewhere into the depths of Chase Field. He'd tried various doors before finding one that pleased him and shoving Hunter inside, yanking the door shut and locking it behind them.

It's a restroom, small and clean. Incredibly clean, Hunter gives props to the cleaning crew. There's a sink and a small stretch of counter and a toilet. Angel backs Hunter into a corner, fisting his hand into Hunter's hair and tugging him into a bruising kiss. Hunter's protest was half hearted and he doesn't think he wants to fight this. It's a very bad idea to do it at a park, even in a room with a lock on the door. Angel's hand down Hunter's pants negates all arguments.

Hunter's moan is high, sharp and Angel shushes him with another kiss, biting his lip and whispering, “Quiet. Do not want anyone to hear us, do we?”

Angel's hands are quick, efficient, just like they are with everything else he does, working Hunter's jeans open and shoving them down his thighs. He pulls Hunter out of the corner and helps boost him onto the counter, scoots him back. One hand wraps around Hunter's cock, stroking him slowly, purring things that Hunter desperately wishes he could understand. There's a thunk and Hunter looks down. He laughs at the condom and lube.

“Like a fucking boy scout.”

The only answer he gets is a slicked finger pushing into him and Angel biting his neck. Hunter whimpers. He wants to beg, wants to plead for Angel to give him more, more more more. But Angel said to be quiet and Hunter's pretty sure the man isn't above gagging him. Now there's a thought. He swallows down everything, only letting a please out that gets him two more fingers. Angel has them knuckle deep, pushing in and out, slow and teasing. He looks ridiculously proud of himself, like he does when he's made an especially good play, like there's something he really loves about reducing Hunter to nothing. There probably is.

Angel has a hand on himself and Hunter wants nothing more than to sink to his knees and swallow him down, straight into his throat. His brain shorts out and flips to another circuit when Angel grabs the condom and tears the package. Hunter pulls him into a kiss, panting against his mouth as he helps to slick the condom on, skimming his fingers around the base of Angel's cock before moving back and gripping his ass, pulling him in close.

“Angel...”

“Shh. You'll get it baby, you'll get it.”

It's on the tip of his tongue to call Angel a damned liar when the man his thrusting into him, full force and all the way in, fucking hard and deep with no warning or chance for Hunter to adjust. It stings and it's too much and not enough all at the same time. He buries his face in Angel's neck and wraps his legs tight round the man's waist, trying to pull him in for more. Angel, apparently determined to drive Hunter out of his mind, slows down instead.

He curls his hand around Hunter's dick again, hand going up in a slow and teasing touch every time he pushes in, skimming back down when he pulls back. He bites Hunter's lip when Hunter makes a frustrated noise and bucks his hips up, resting their foreheads together and smirking, “So impatient. You need to relax. Just... enjoy yourself. Or ask me very, very nicely.”

“.. wuh?” Hunter huffs out, staring. It's not his fault he sounds like an idiot just now. He dares anyone to try and be coherent and intelligent with Angel Pagan fucking them so slow they can feel every inch dragging in and out. Actually, he doesn't, Hunter doesn't share. “ _Please_. Please. More.”

Angel doesn't wait for another invitation, just picks up his initial pace, bottoming out in Hunter with every thrust. Hunter's body is sliding against the counter and his back is hitting the rim at the bottom of the mirror every thrust in, a little bit of hurt along with the overwhelmingly good feelings running through his body. He grips the back of Angel's neck, crushes their lips together and bites, licks, pushing for more the only way he can without making too much noise. When he comes, he groans into Angel's mouth, biting hard on his lip. The taste of copper in his mouth makes him mewl.

The mirror cracks as he sprawls back and he laughs when Angel swears, groans when he comes. Angel slumps forward against him, face in Hunter's neck and just breathing against his skin. Hunter's eyes slip shut and he skims a hand up Angel's back, strokes his hair before sliding off the counter. He fixes his clothes with shaking hands after wiping down with a handful of paper towels. One look at the mirror shows a round spiderweb of cracks and he stifles a laugh. He just broke a mirror in an opposing team's park having sex in a bathroom he had no business being in. _He_ did that.

Some days, he really can't believe this is his life.

He peers out the door, checks the hallway to be sure that it's empty before pulling Angel along behind him, dashing for the door and humming the theme from Mission Impossible. Angel is snorting and muttering some things that clearly aren't complimentary but they're at least fond. Hunter's okay with Angel laughing at him. There's something sweet in the way that he does it.

It's not until the next day, in the locker room, that he notices anything is amiss. He hears a sly “I know what you've been doing recently.” and whips his head around, knowing he looks like a deer caught in headlights. Theriot is standing in front of him with a smirk on his face. Hunter swallows hard, eyes darting back and forth. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“That's an interesting bruise there on your back.”

“I fell?”

“Lies.” Theriot answers, creeping in close. “I'm brain damaged, not stupid. C'mon. Tell me your dirty secret. Who is it?”

“Um-”

“Stop harassing my boyfriend, Theriot, and go harass your own.” Angel announces breezily, wrapping an arm around Hunter's shoulder and drawing him in for a kiss on the cheek. Hunter feels his face flaring up with a neon red blush. Theriot lights up like seeing this is the only thing he has ever wanted and he's cackling as he lopes away and all but tackles Crawford. Hunter groans and shakes his head, giving Angel a dirty look.

“You realize he's going to do something with that information. I don't know what but he will do something and it will be embarrassing.”

“I don't think I care.” Angel answers with a smug grin. He turns Hunter, draws his finger along the bruise with a hungry look in his eyes. “This does not look good. I think maybe I should kiss it better later.”

Hunter whimpers.


End file.
